


Iceman

by havetardiswilltimetravel



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Con Flash Fic, Flash Fic, Gen, Mary Morstan is Sebastian Moran, Protective Big Brother Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 18:02:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18481495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havetardiswilltimetravel/pseuds/havetardiswilltimetravel
Summary: Mary Morstan was dangerous, but so was he, and it was clear fear was pooling behind her eyes.





	Iceman

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2019 221B Con Flash Fic Workshop:
> 
> Character 1: Mycroft Holmes  
> Character 2: Mary Morstan  
> Prompt: unexpected change in the weather  
> Location: back of an ambulance

The ride was fast and bumpy, the ambulance’s siren shrill and cutting through the air, but Mycroft Holmes sat stiff and still, his stone-like gaze never wavering from the woman across from him.

Mary Morstan was dangerous, but so was he, and it was clear fear was pooling behind her eyes.

“A pity when you get caught in your own blast...” Mycroft said casually as the paramedics treated the burns on her skin.

“My blast?” Mary questioned, hurt confusion lacing her voice. Mycroft could see through it now, though. Now that he knew who she really was. He would never forgive himself for the time it had taken him to realize nor the damage it had done in the meantime.

“Yes, your blast. The one set to trigger at 221B Baker Street. The one that landed my brother in the ambulance behind us.” Mycroft’s eyes were sharp, predatory. “Don’t you remember?”

It wasn’t a question, which was just as well since Mary didn’t seem to have an answer.

“Oh, but I know how hard it can be to remember details sometimes,” Mycroft continued, the chill in his voice seeping into the stifled summer air. “Places, events, identities...”

“I-“

“Save it, Ms. Morstan. Or should I say Ms. Moran?” Mycroft asked, gaining intense satisfaction when Mary’s jaw clenched.

“I don’t know how you managed to get past my background checks, but there’s no use in hiding now.” He leaned forward as one of the paramedics slapped cuffs on her bandaged wrists.

“If my brother dies, burns will be the least of your problems," he assured, his eyes leaving no doubt as to how seriously he took that promise.

"Now which one of us should tell John Watson?”


End file.
